


All the years they fly backwards

by lapoesieestdanslarue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 22:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapoesieestdanslarue/pseuds/lapoesieestdanslarue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon asked: imagine steve and bucky as time travelers running into each other in the wrong order (the first time bucky sees steve is the last time steve sees bucky and vice versa)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the years they fly backwards

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Also, yes I know that gay marriage was un-heard of in the 1930's+, but this is a perfect world I'm writing in.

Flashes of memories flood his head and he doesn't understand-

He opens his eyes.

He's curled up on the ground, and he's freezing. Shaking, he wraps his arms around him, trying to get any source of warmth into him. Gulping, he shifts his head, only to be met with fresh, moist dirt. He tries to lift his head up, but it's all in vain and it falls to the ground again within seconds. Where is he? One moment he's at home in bed with Bucky-

Bucky.

"Bucky," Steve croaks, but only the wind replies. Taking a shaky breath, he slowly sits up and looks around the landscape. He's in a graveyard.

Disorientated, Steve turns his head to look directly in front of him. Words blur into focus.

"James Buchanan Barnes.

1st May 1919-13th March 2014.

A brave solider and great man."

Oh God no.

"No, Bucky-"

Pain explodes at the centre of Steve's brain and the moment's slipped through his fingers. He's gone.  
________________________________________  
He's lying on his right side on a wooden porch. His whole body aches, and it feels as though his brain is on fire.

"Need some ice?"

Looking up, he sees a grey-haired man standing above him. Bucky. Every inch of him is absolute Bucky. He's so old, his face full of wrinkles and lines, but his eyes still have the oh-so familiar gleam in them. He's still as beautiful as the first day Steve met him.

"Bucky? Is that you? I..." Steve wheezes. "But I..." He had just come back from Bucky's graveyard. Bucky had died. Bucky was dead. So what on earth was he doing here?

Bucky offers Steve his hand, and Steve takes it gratefully. 

He pats Steve's back and leads him into the house, half-dragging him, nearly collapsing under Steve's weight, before lowering him down onto a leather couch. "It's pretty bad, huh?" He asks as Steve winces. Nodding his head, Steve takes the ice from Bucky, putting it on his head, and, thank the Lord, it relives some of the pain. "It'll get better as you go through. Promise. You'll be able to stay for longer, too."

"I'm...I'm living in the wrong order. I'm going backwards. I..." Steve trails off, too confused with the previous events, his forehead creasing in frustration. 

"You know what time is like. It jumps all over the place. One moment you're living your life, in the right timeline, and the next you're having tea with your dead grandmother."

"Bucky, why am I-"

Steve doesn't get time to finish, and Bucky doesn't get time to answer because the blinding pain is back with a vengeance, and Steve vanishes from juncture.  
________________________________________

 

Pain seers through Steve's head. It's different this time, it's dark and dingy. Opening his eyes more, Steve looks around. He's in a janitor's closet. The calendar on the back of the door catches his eye, and one date circled in red.

March 13th, 2014.

No no no. It wasn't meant to happen like this. It was him and Bucky, 'till the end of the line. Bucky would have come with him, at least. Bucky would have. But Bucky didn't. Steve swallows hard. Gripping the sides of the metal shelf beside him, Steve stumbles up. "Ach," He moans quietly, pressing his hand to the pain in his back. The room begins to spin. Closing his eyes, Steve braces the cabinet and leans up against the wall. His right hand brushes the cold surface of the plastered wall, and then Steve realises something. He opens his eyes and focuses on his hand. It's smooth and pale. Not a day over twenty-five.

He's ninety-five. He should be ninety-five here, he should have grey-if not no- hair, and a wizened, leathery face with shaky, liver-spotted hands.

What the hell happened?

It's never been this much of a time jump before. A couple of years forward or back, a few times every year, and always- always- with Bucky. Not seventy years. Not without Bucky. Legs wobbling and his knees weak, Steve steps out of the closet and is immediately hit with the smell of anti-bacterial wipes. It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the light, but he's know the fluorescent lighting and white-washed walls anywhere.

He's in a hospital.

A sound comes from his left that breaks him out of his shock. A pained, chesty cough.

"Would you like any medicine to help, Mr. Barnes?"

"No, thank you, Dr.Grey."

Bucky. He's alive. Steve's gone back in time. Taking a tentative step forward, Steve looks into the room. An old man with grey, slicked back hair and a pale, thin face is lying in a hospital bed.

An old man who is most undoubtedly Bucky.

"Well, you just tell the nurses if you need anything, okay?"

"I will, Dr. Grey."

Dr. Grey picks up her binder and walks out of the room. Eyeing Steve, she says "Mr. Barnes is taking visitors."

"Oh..Thanks." As she brushes past him, Steve shifts to face her. "What's wrong with him?"

"Severe pneumonia. With his old age..."

"He might not make it?" Steve's seen the headstone. They're time travellers, not immortal. And yet the concept still breaks his heart.

Dr. Grey hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "He may...He may not. But, it would be wise to say your goodbyes."

Sighing, Steve leaned back in to look at Bucky where he lay.

"You should go in," Dr. Grey said, hugging her binder to her chest. "He'd really like some visitors."

Nodding his head, Steve gulped. Clenching and un-clenching his hands, he took a tentative step forward. And another step. And another. And soon enough he was in the room, sitting beside a now sound asleep Bucky. As Steve's fingers brush against Bucky's withered hands, his eyes flutter open and angles his head so he's facing Steve. An array of emotions are sketched on his face.

Shock.

Surprise.

Sadness.

Love.

"Steve!" He gasps, grasping Steve's hand tight. "You came back for me!" Bucky's eyes well up with tears. "You came back for me."

"Of course I did, Buck. I'd never leave you," Steve reassures him, holding back tears himself. Steve lifts up Bucky's hand and presses a kiss into his knuckles. It's both heart-breaking and eye opening seeing Bucky like this. Seeing Bucky like this, without him.

"We're gonna die together, just like you promised," Bucky says, a serene smile on face. He looks so peaceful.

"Yeah, Bucky. I never break a promise," He answers, choking back tears.

"I was so worried when you died that I'd never see you again. But you're back. You came back." Bucky's breathing is growing heavier, his eyelids drooping and his grip on Steve's hand slipping. "I love you, Steve," He slurs.

"I love you, too, Buck," Steve says, hiding his face in his hands, crying silently.

"Oh, Steve, don't cry." Gently and slowly, Bucky pries Steve's hand away. With his bony, shaky hands Bucky lifts Steve's face up to eye level. "So beautiful. Younger, though. Younger than when you died. Oh Steve, it's been so long."

Steve's breath catches and his eyes widen, puzzle pieces coming together. He died. That's why he's gone so far forward. He had died. He had left Bucky. But he was alive. He was alive. So that means that Bucky was going forward and Steve was going backwards. Bucky continues his life, in the right order . But- this wasn't even Steve's life. It had been cut short. "My Steve. My beautiful Steve. We'll be together again. 'Till the end of the line."

"Always, Bucky. Always."

Bucky's eyes slowly close, and his head lolls to the side. Steve can barely hear his shallow breaths over the decreasing beeps of the monitor. With every second that passes, Bucky's heart rate goes down.

Beep.

Beep.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppp.

"Bucky," Steve shakes him gently, though his words are distressed. "Nurse!" He calls, frantic. "Bucky, please, you can't leave me! I'm scared! I don't know what to do-Nurse!"

BBBBBBEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPP.

The darkness envelopes Steve yet again, and he disappears from the moment.   
________________________________________

 

Again, he wakes in a small, dark space. Jolting upright, he shifts around awkwardly in the confined space. He notices the small slit of light coming from the middle. Apprehensively pressing his hand against it, he was met with a hard, wooden surface. Giving it a gentle push, the light got bigger until Steve realised he was, yet again, in a closet. A broom one, this time. Opening the door, Steve gracelessly stumbled out, and landed face first on the floor. His mind reeling with both the pain and shock of the previous moment with Bucky. A fresh wave of pain washes over him, and his thoughts shout loudly in his head.

He's dead he's dead he's dead

He died he died he died

You're dead you're dead you're dead

"Sir? Are you alright?"

He lifts his head to see a nurse standing above him, a worried expression etched on her face.

"I'm- I'm-" Well he certainly wasn't fine. People who travelled seventy plus years in the future rarely were 'fine'. People who had died rarely were 'okay'. "Yeah, sorry. I'm... Alright."

"Here, let me help you," she said, bending down to help him up. Dusting himself of, Steve thanked her and looked around. He was in a hospital-like place with various doors leading into separate rooms down a long, narrow corridor.

"Is there anyone in particular you're looking for?"

"Um...No, I don't..." Was Bucky here? It was a fair bet he was. It seemed no matter where he ended up, Bucky was always connected. "Is there a James Buchanan Barnes here?"

The Nurse opened her folder and flicked through it, stopping at 'B' and skimming through the long list of names. Steve glanced at the front of the folder.  
'Mount Anvill Home for the Elderly'

"Yes, we do. Bucky Barnes, room 107, just down the hall to your right."

After mumbling a thank you, Steve makes his way down the hall.

"Oh, and sir?"

"Yes?"

"It's just- His mind isn't what it used to be. The medicine he takes, HYDRA, it has a bad affect on him. Be cautious. And you'll have to sign our visitor log on your way out."

Nodding his head, Steve walks clumsily down the corridor, the side-effects of waking up here not yet subdued. Turning right, he finds a door ajar, the faded numbers '107' barely visible. Coming up to the doorway, Steve peeks in. And, as Steve had guessed, Bucky is there. Younger by a few years, his hair line not so receded and not as many lines on his face. He's sitting stiffly, facing a TV, though it's on mute. Knocking on the door, Steve pokes his head in. "Bucky?"  
Bucky's head whips around and his eyes land on Steve. Though they are not the warm, baby blue eyes that Steve fell in love with, they are harsh, unkind, glassy. "Who the hell are you?" His voice is not his voice, it is bitter and cold and has a sharp edge to it that pierce's Steve's heart. 

"I'm Steve. We..." Does he tell him about them? "We were the best of friends. We met the army."

"My Steve died twenty odd years ago, ya hear me? Imposter!" Bucky spits.

"No, no, Bucky. I died. I lived in another timeline, and I died, so it threw me into this one."

Bucky shakes his head furiously. "That's not how it works."

"It is, it is. I'm here, aren't I?" Steve pleads, taking Bucky's hand in his. "I'm Steve. I'm still your Steve, Bucky." Bucky withdraws his hand cradles it against his chest. "No- No. Stop it. Stop it right now!"

Bucky's voice is raising and he's getting more frustrated and angry.

"Bucky," Steve soothes, but Bucky' already calling for a nurse. "Nurse!" He shouts. "Nurse!"

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave," The nurse says sternly.

"No, you don't understand-" Steve pleads.

"You are upsetting a patient I have to ask you to leave."

He doesn't know who I am.

He looked right at me and he doesn't know who I am.

"Steve-"

"Bucky-"

Nothing.  
________________________________________  
Waking up, he's in a small double-bed underneath a window. He sits up and looks around. He knows the place. He'd know it anywhere. It's his and Bucky's apartment. 

"Hey, you," a voice that is most definitely Bucky's says from across the room. Bucky strolls in, wearing nothing but pants and a huge grin on his face.

"Hey yourself," Steve says, in shock at seeing Bucky so young and vibrant and alive. 

Flopping down on the bed, Bucky spreads his arms and legs out like a starfish and smiles up at Steve. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just-I love you. You know that? "

"'Course I do!" Bucky leans up to peck Steve on the lips, and Steve graciously accepts. "Bucky," Steve says, lying down to face Bucky. Wrapping his arms around Bucky's waist, he pulls him close. "I'm serious. I really do love you. I love you. With everything I've got," Steve says quietly.

"I know, I know, Steve," Bucky whispers. "You don't gotta remind me. It ain't like I'm gonna forget!" He chuckles. 

'But soon I'm not going to be here to tell you," Steve thinks, his heart filling with sorrow.

"I'm just worried-"

"Don't. Don't worry. Don't think. Just be here. In the moment, with me. You don't have to worry about the future. Everything will work out the way it's supposed too, I promise."

Steve's chest tightens at that. "I-Okay."

Bucky begins to dust Steve's face with wonderful, light kisses. "I love you, Steve."

"Can you say it again?"

Bucky smiles. "I love you. I love you. I love you." 

Steve gently intertwines his fingers with Bucky's and pulls him in for a deep kiss. Steve had forgotten how wonderful kissing Bucky was. 

"We're going to live such an amazing, lovely life, Steve," Bucky murmurs when the break the kiss, stroking Steve's face with his long fingers. "We're gonna get a great, big house in the suburbs, and you'll be an artist and I'll work at the dock. And we'll get married, we'll have a real nice wedding in a church. And we'll have to kids and we're going to love them so much. And then, we'll grow old together. And in all the time, we'll never leave each other's side."

"Because I'm with you 'till the end of the line," Steve answers.

"Exactly," Bucky smiles. And oh, how Steve wished for it to be true. How he longed for that happy life with Bucky. How he envies the people who do get to live like that. 

And with a final kiss from Bucky, he slips away.

________________________________________

He jolts up. He's in a small office-like space, and he can hear music coming from behind an open door.

"Steve? You ready?" Someone says. 

"What?" He asks, turning to face the source of the voice. Howard. "Howard. Howard, I-"

"Pre-wedding jitters, I know," Howard chuckles. "But we gotta go. Bucky's waiting."

Pre-wedding jitters? Oh my God. This is the day he and Bucky got married. 

"But, Howard-"  
"Steve?" Another voice says. Peggy. "Bucky reached the aisle. Come on, it's time to go."

Before Steve can say anything, Peggy grabs Steve by the arm and pulls him up to the large, mahogany doors. Winking, Peggy smiles. "You two are perfect for each other, Steve. There's no need to be nervous." 

"Yeah, you're right," Steve breathes, still blown away by the fact that this is his wedding day. 

The music picks up again, and the doors open. Steve's met with smiling faces, he see's everyone and knows them immediately. Dum Dum. Maria Stark. Bucky's sister Rebecca . Dernier. Falsworth. All these people that Steve remembers, but can't place a memory with a face. 

He turns his eyes to the front. And, lo and behold, there stands Bucky, hair slicked back in a nice-fitting suit, dressed to the nines. And his smile is so big, Steve's worried his face will split. And then, Steve begins to smile. Because Bucky's so happy, and that makes him happy, and this is his wedding day and he gets to live it over. Eventually he reaches Bucky, and gives Peggy a quick kiss on the cheek before joining Bucky at the altar.

"Hey," Bucky grins. 

"Hey," Steve whispers back, smiling all the same.

"We are gathered here today," the priest says powerfully. "To witness the holy matrimony of Steven Grant Rodgers and James Buchanan Barnes. James, if you will please repeat after me..."

" I, James, take you, Steven to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honour you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life." 

Steve gives Bucky a watery smiles, and squeezes his hand. 

"It's okay," Bucky mouths, rubbing circles into Steve's knuckles with his thumb.

"And, now, Steven, repeat after me..."

Steve's eyes are welling up with tears, and he has to slow down his breathing to control his voice. "I, Steven, take you, Bucky to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honour you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life."

"Steven, do you take James to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health 'till death do you part?"

"I do," Steve breathes.

"James, do you take Steven to be your lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health 'till death do you part?"

"I do."

"Then you may kiss the groom!"

Steve can already begin to feel the familiar pull. Time time time. I'm running out of time. 

Bucky leans in a grabs him in a deep, passionate kiss. As soon as he begins to pull away, Steve leaves the moment, the pain taking him for its' own.  
________________________________________

Memories come quicker now-

Each fleeting moment brings a new one-  
________________________________________

"Dance with me, Stevie!"

Steve shakes his head. "I dunno how, Buck."

"Sure ya do, I'll teach you!"

Quick touches and the dread of the song ending-  
________________________________________

Their first kiss- it's messy andscary and fevered but it was so worth the wait-  
________________________________________

Hands fumble with buttons and zippers-

Their fingers are intertwined and his hand running through Bucky's hair-  
________________________________________

"Draw me, Steve," Bucky smirks lazily.

Steve flushes red. "I dunno-"

"Come on, it'll be fun."  
________________________________________

"I love you, Steve. You know that? Always have, always will."

"I love you too, Buck."  
________________________________________  
He awakes under a bench of a busy train station. Crawling out from underneath it, he looks around. Where is he? The amount of people here overwhelms him, they're all bustling about, rushing to get on a train or burying their heads in a newspaper. Suddenly, it hits him. He checks his watch. May 21st, 1931. This is where he first met Bucky. At a train station when they were sixteen.  
He looks around. Where is he meant to go? What train is meant to get on? If he doesn't...Then what will happen? What if he never meets Bucky? Scrambling off the floor, Steve stands up.

"Train 304 to Brooklyn is departing now at station 2. I repeat, train 304 to Brooklyn is departing now at station 2."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, growing more frustrated by the minute. Is that where he's meant to go. Scanning his eyes through the crowd, he sees a familiar mop of brown hair make it's way through the station.

He's running out of time.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and sets out in pursuit of, hopefully, Bucky. Running through the crowd, he pushes and shoves, not stopping for anyone, giving half-assed, quiet apologies as he goes. Ignoring the security guards warning, he jumps over the gates, into the station.

Time is going fast.

The train whistle blows and Steve can see Bucky disappear into a carriage.

"Bucky!" He yells. "Bucky!"

The sound of the train whistle blowing is a knife to the heart and Steve picks up his pace, sprinting along side the carriage. Banging on the side of the train, Steve shouts "Wait! Stop! Bucky!"

"You've got five minutes, kid!" He hears as runs down to Bucky's carriage. Jumping inside, he searches desperately for Bucky.  
"Bucky?! Bucky?!"

He's slipping, he can feel it. And not just into another memory, this time, for good. He's well and truly gone.

"Who the hell are you?" A voice snaps from the far end of the carriage. Walking down, Steve can see it's Bucky. A young, baby-faced Bucky.

"Bucky..." He croaks.

And the darkness comes for him again but there's no pain, no more memories.

There's nothing but the sweet taste of Bucky's name on his lips.


End file.
